


A Kingly Gift

by HildyJ



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 08:58:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3482246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HildyJ/pseuds/HildyJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin desperately wants to honour the birthday customs of hobbits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Kingly Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Heyerette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heyerette/gifts).



> This was a birthday present for one of the sweetest people I've met in this fandom, [Heyerette](http://heyerette.tumblr.com/) and it was originally posted on her tumblr.

The King’s birthday was, of course, a grand affair with presents and diplomatic messages filled with congratulations coming in from all of Middle-earth. Even the King of the wood elves had been compelled to sign his name to a couple of terse lines of well-wishing. 

An entire room had been commandeered to house the numerous gifts which had been arriving to the mountain daily for the last fortnight: Wine from Gondor, fine cloth from Rivendell, a life-sized carved, wooden horse from Rohan, pure Mithril from Moria and the finest jewellery from both Ered Luin and the Iron Hills were just a few examples of how Middle-earth chose to celebrate the birthday of King Thorin of Erebor.

A grand feast had been planned that night for all inhabitants of the mountain, from the lowest scullery maid to the highest Lady. And even the King’s council had agreed to let his Majesty have his birthday in peace, allowing him to ignore his usual duties for one day.

And how was the King making use of his free time? How was he enjoying all this revelry and good will? By sitting stiffly in a chair in his own chambers, his fingers flexing around a half-drunk cup of bitter ale while half-listening to a trader from the marketplace pontificating on the differences between various rolls of fine and expensive parchment.

What a ridiculous hobbit tradition, Thorin thought as he twisted the stem of his cup between his fingers. To give away presents to others on your own birthday! And it was just like Bilbo Baggins, blasted hobbit that he was, to casually mention this very important fact on the eve of Thorin’s own birthday. 

If only Bilbo had spoken of this custom earlier, he would have had time to make something for him. Bilbo deserved something special, something that Thorin himself had crafted for him. Something that would show how important Bilbo was to… To everything, really. But there hadn’t been time to show him, to make him understand just what Thorin desperately wanted him to know. 

He sat straighter in his seat, rubbing absentmindedly at an ache behind his ribs. 

There just hadn’t been time. So now he had to spend the day conversing with traders instead of spending this one day of the year in the peace and quiet he so desperately craved. Because he had to find it. The perfect gift for Bilbo Baggins. The gift that would say it all.

The third trader of the day seemed to be finishing off his spiel about his products, and Thorin leaned forward in his seat, trying to give some semblance of having paid attention.

‘- And on this one the ink will dry very fast! Your Majesty’s writing won’t be able to keep up!’ The trader chuckled at his own witticism, waving some off-white parchment in front of the King.

Thorin forced a smile before taking a long swallow from his ale. Balin would have been better at this. Anyone would have been better at this than Thorin. 

The first trader which he had summoned to his chambers had been the tea trader. Because Bilbo liked tea. He was always going on about it. And, Thorin had discovered, it was a sure way of tempting the hobbit into spending his evenings in front of the King’s fireplace. The promise of trying a new blend of tea was needed to lure Bilbo away from the songs and merriment of the great hall and the company of the others, to have him sit with Thorin in his rooms. And here the two of them would talk quietly for hours while their tea cooled in their cups and they had to finally call for more hot water. Other times they would sit silently together, sometimes reading, sometimes staring into the flames of the fireplace. And some times Bilbo would tell tales from the Shire with such verve and energy that it made Thorin guffaw loudly in a way that he hadn’t done since his youth.

But, Thorin had thought as the trader had made him smell another open canister of tea, maybe it was a bad idea to furnish Bilbo with his own collection of rare and expensive teas. Because Thorin needed those evenings. And therefore he needed to keep the teas to himself for now. Tea was something they shared together in Thorin’s rooms, and he had to make sure it always would be like that.

So he sent the first trader away.

The second trader had shown him a selection of fine jewellery, heavy gold rings and ear cuffs laden with bright stones. But the rings were too wide for Bilbo’s small hands and the cuffs, which would wrap around beautifully on a dwarven ear, were too large for Bilbo’s pointed ears. He had been tempted by the sight of a golden brooch in the shape of Durin’s tree with tiny accents of Mithril decorating the tips of the branches. If Bilbo had worn this to keep his cloak closed, everyone in Erebor would know Thorin’s intentions towards the unassuming hobbit in their midst. Everyone, that is, but the hobbit himself. 

Yes, this would be a fitting present, Thorin had thought, turning the brooch over in his hands to admire the craftsmanship. It said everything that needed to be said. But Bilbo wouldn’t understand its language.

So he sent the second trader away.

The third trader was still waiting patiently for his Majesty’s verdict on his finest wares. And buying a roll of quality parchments was a good idea. Bilbo was always writing something. It was either letters back to his beloved Shire or working on his story of their quest to reclaim Erebor. And he would appreciate the quality of this gift, Thorin thought, fingering the piece closest to him on the table, feeling its thickness.

But this was also a gift that anyone could give to Bilbo. At least anyone in the company who had travelled with him for so long. Anyone who knew him. And they would all, Thorin included, receive that same courteous smile that Bilbo granted to everyone who treated him with kindness.

Thorin disliked that smile. It was the strongest of Bilbo’s shields, the one he used to keep everyone at a polite distance. And Thorin wanted to be closer than a sheaf of parchments could get him.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door and it opened before Thorin could gather his wits to call out.

‘Thorin, I – Oh, I’m sorry.’ Thorin looked up to see Bilbo standing in the open door, a small, square package held between his hands. Bilbo glanced away. ‘You’re busy. I’ll come back later.’

‘No!’ Thorin stood up quickly. ‘Please come in, Bilbo. Master…’ Thorin trailed off, having forgot the trader’s name. ‘He was just leaving.’ He said with an off-handed gesture, leaving the other dwarf to gather his parchments while he went to greet Bilbo.

And so the third trader was sent away.

Bilbo looked up at Thorin. ‘I wanted to wish you a happy birthday and,’ he held the small package out in front of him, ‘this is for you.’

The King blinked in surprise. He had now spent half a day worried about what to give Bilbo. But he had completely forgotten that all this agitation had been caused by the occasion of his own birthday.

Thorin took the light package but paused before opening. Maybe he had misunderstood what Bilbo had said last night. ‘I thought hobbits didn’t go in for this sort of thing,’ he said slowly, ‘giving presents to people on their birthdays, I mean.’

‘Yes, well.’ Bilbo shuffled slightly and looked down at his feet. ‘You’re not a hobbit, are you? And I wanted to give this to you now and not have to wait for my own birthday to come around.’

Thorin nodded before untying the knot holding the cloth together and revealing the item contained within.

It was a small wooden box with most of the original paint worn off from long use and its edges had been smoothed by many hobbit hands. But Thorin recognised it. It had been one of the first things Bilbo had sent for from the Shire after settling in Erebor. It had been his father’s box, containing the last of Bilbo’s favourite pipe weed. Old Toby was impossible to grow on this side of the world and so Bilbo had resigned himself to enjoying his old indulgence much more sparingly than before.

‘I-I know it’s not much,’ Bilbo said, raising his gaze from the box to Thorin’s face. ‘But I haven’t had long to plan a present for you, since you practically kept your birthday a secret until a fortnight ago, and anyway,’ he shrugged his shoulders with a self-deprecating air, ‘what kind of gift can any hobbit give to impress a dwarven King?’

Thorin opened the box and stared at the brown curls just covering the bottom of the container. There was barely enough to fill one pipe. What kind of gift, indeed. This gift was worth more to Bilbo than any jewelled sword was worth to a great leader of dwarves or fine cloth was worth to the lord of Rivendell. 

As he looked down at the last of Bilbo’s favourite pipe-weed, looked at what he had given up to stay in Erebor, Thorin started to understand.

‘We’ll share it. Tonight,’ Thorin declared as he firmly shut the lid on the box.

‘But tonight’s the feast in honour of your birthday.’ Bilbo’s eyebrows lowered in confusion.

‘Afterwards. As soon as we can sneak away, we’ll go to my rooms like we always do and we’ll put this Old Toby to good use.’

‘Yes, I would like that. I would like that very much.’ Bilbo smiled up at him. A bright, open smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

And Thorin understood.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](http://hildyj.tumblr.com/)


End file.
